


The Stark Khaleesi

by Poetgirl616



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 12:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19853620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetgirl616/pseuds/Poetgirl616
Summary: A Spider sets plans in motion that effects the Game of Thrones. Sansa begins a dangerous journey that could end with love or her life.





	The Stark Khaleesi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's a bit choppy, I am trying my hand at writing Varys for the first time and uncertain on how I did.

**Disclaimer: I do not own ASOIF, Game of Thrones, or any of G. R. R Martin's characters. I only own what I write in the spaces below that stem from my imagination.**

**Unidentified location**

Firelight dances across the stone walls of the dimly lit chamber, shadows playing upon every available surface. The sounds of the sleeping city drifted through the windows on the faint breeze, but all was not still. 

Movement stirred the stillness and shadows elongated, following the disturbance. 

Soft scratching joined the merry crackling of burning wood. 

A figure sat hunched over a desk, writing furiously, a lone candle drawn as close as they dare to shed extra light on the paper. The risk was necessary, time was shorted than would be preferred. The letter was not sealed in wax or house insignia, that would give the whole thing away for certain, no. It was tied tightly closed in sun beaten horse leather. It had to be believed that this message was authentic, or all was lost. 

The missive was not sent that night, but tucked away safely to be revealed at the appropriate moment. 

The candle was snuffed out, the fire banked, until all that remained was darkness and a sliver of pale moonlight. 

* * *

**Kings Landing**

The small council chamber was a chaos of sound, voices overlapping and wood scraping against stone as multiple bodies took their seats at the long rectangular table. Two chairs were empty. The Queen Regent and Lord Peter Baelish were absent from the proceedings. King Joffrey Baratheon sat at the head of the table, slouched in his chair and surveying the room with bored eyes. 

"Do get on with it!" He snapped impatiently, waving a hand wildly. 

Varys stood, procuring a scroll secured with horse leather from his robe and extending it to the King. "A message from a Khal Drogo of the Dothraki, Your Grace." 

Joffrey broke the bindings, unrolling the paper with vague interest. A moment later his jaw muscle began to tick. He threw down the paper, chair falling to the floor behind him with a loud crash as he launched himself into a standing position. "That savage dares to threaten me! Me! I am the King!"

"What does the message say?" Grand Maester Pycelle asks. 

"He claims he will cross the sea and take the city if we do not pay his tribute!" 

"The Dothraki threat must be dealt with at once! We don't know what numbers they possess, they could overwhelm our forces if they maintain the advantage of surprise!"

"You said it yourself, we do not know their numbers. How do we know they even have enough men to pose a legitimate threat to us? Besides, they have never crossed the sea and do not seem to be too willing to do so or they would have before now." 

"You cannot possibly know that! They could be halfway across the sea at this very moment, they could have sent the message as a false point to measure how far away they are. They could be anywhere and we would not know if they were at our door until it is too late!"

"Your Grace, if there is anything I have heard about the Dothraki through my little birds, it is that they enjoy well bred horses and women. Sometimes, the women do not return to their families or homes without . . . medical ailments or injuries. Some do not return at all. Perhaps if you were to send a gift, for example between five hundred and a thousand pure bred stallions or a bride, he may be persuaded to stay where he is." Varys calmly informed the raging king. "If you would prefer to choose a bride, I would suggest a virgin. Mayhaps someone in Kings Landing, so we can keep an eye on the Dothraki's movements. Someone loyal to the Crown and in your debt."

A beatific smile spread over the kings face, demented glee shining in his emerald green eyes. "I will give the savage a bride. I know the perfect one to send him." 

"A bride is an excellent choice, Your Grace." Grand Maester Pycelle wheezed, as though he suggested the idea. No matter, the seed had been planted. 

Varys did not comment, waiting patiently for the words to come. The boy king had wriggled nicely into his carefully woven web, but the question remained if he would fully succumb to the Spider?

"Summon Sansa to the throne room, I must share the joyous news!" The king crowed, exiting the small council chamber without asking if there were any other pressing concerns, in his excitement. 

Yes, the boy king did as he was meant to. 

_Now, it begins._

* * *

Varys stood in the shadows of the throne room. Lady Sansa had come as she was bid, beautiful and pale as the moon. She knelt before the throne, hands clasped in her lap and head bowed as Joffrey liked. 

"Do you know why you are here, Sansa?" Joffrey asked, edging forward in the throne, eagerly awaiting her answer.

"No, Your Grace." She answered primly, head still bowed. 

"You are here because I have chosen a husband for you! You will be marrying a Dothraki savage who calls himself Dagon or something." He announced with glee, nearly bouncing in place. "What do you say to that, Sansa?"

Her hands were shaking, now, her shoulders drawn down. 

"Th-Thank you, Your Grace." She had lifted her head, crystal tears flowing down her cheek. She was smart, showing the boy her tears, he liked to see them. "I know I was not good enough for you and am grateful you found a suitor for me that is more suited for me." 

He cocked his golden head to the side. "Tell me true, Sansa, what do you think of this marriage?"

"I do not want to be parted from you, Your Grace, but I will go where you command and marry the savage as you wish." She murmured, another tear falling, as if she truly was stricken at the thought of leaving Kings Landing forever. It was compelling, to be certain, and believable if you willingly ignored the signs. Apparently, the court was willingly to do just that, following the Kings lead in that respect. 

"Very well, Sansa. You will be ready to leave in two days." Joffrey called, loud enough for the entire throne room to hear. "You will be wedded and bedded by your savage husband soon enough!" 

Lady Sansa stood, curtsying low to the king before exiting the throne room gracefully. There was no trace of tears in her eyes or on her face as she passed the Spider, only a grim set to her jaw and a dimly lit fire in her eyes. 

_Yes, it begins._


End file.
